


You Wanna Bet?

by meetmeatthecoda



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Weird tags, and friendly betting, but fun!, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 14:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11150076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meetmeatthecoda/pseuds/meetmeatthecoda
Summary: Written for tumblr prompt: "We bet and you lost, so you have to do it." Red and Liz make a bet with some high stakes: food. And Liz wins. Whatever will she make Red eat? Set in season 1, Tom is irrelevant and nonexistent, early Lizzington flirtation.





	You Wanna Bet?

Liz strides right through the door of the Hempstead house without knocking, carrying a small bag in her hand. Dembe, expecting her, leans his head out of the kitchen, his mouth full and holding what looks like a three-meat sandwich. He immediately spies the bag held at her side and smirks. Liz grins back, feeling particularly evil. Oh, this is going to be so good.

"Sitting room?" she asks.

Dembe just nods, taking another bite of his sandwich and retreating back into the kitchen, chuckling to himself all the while. 

Liz marches into the sitting room where she sees Red relaxing on the couch, sans suit jacket with vest unbuttoned and feet propped on the coffee table, shoe-less. He is perusing yet another manuscript and sipping at a glass of that revolting cloudy liquid, black framed reading glasses perched on his nose.

Well. They certainly bring out his eyes, don't they? How nice.

Liz unceremoniously drops the bag on the table next to his feet and stands there, hip cocked and arms crossed, smirk firmly in place.

"Nice glasses." she says in greeting.

Red looks up in surprise and quickly swipes the glass off and tucks them in his pocket.

Is he blushing a little? Is he self-conscious about his glasses? Oh, he is. How cute, Liz can't help but think. He shouldn't be, they really look quite nice, she thinks idly. 

"Lizzie, what a wonderful surprise." Red croons, trying to play it cool, probably hoping she'll think she imagined the glasses if he distracts her.

Fat chance, thinks Liz.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" He asks, marking his place in the manuscript and putting it next to him on the couch.

Liz puts aside any pleasant thoughts of his glasses for the moment and picks up the bag from the table, dropping it into his lap without a word. Oh, this will be so much fun.

His looks at it for a minute, his expression shifting rapidly. Liz watches eagerly. Surprise, curiosity, recognition, horror, disgust.

"Oh, Lizzie, surely not."

"Oh, yes."

"Oh, Lizzie, no. Why? There must be something else. Anything but this."

Liz can't help but laugh at his desperation. He watches her mirth with a horror-struck expression, evidently realizing that she is completely serious.

"Nope, we bet and you lost, so you have to do it," she sing-songs, not feeling at all guilty about her glee. She has been looking forward to this.

Red picks the bag up gingerly between two fingers, turning his lip up slightly.

"Oh, for God's sake, Red, it's not that bad."

"Says you, Lizzie."

"Oh, please. It can't possibly be any worse that what you were gonna give me to eat if you had found number 48 first."

"Oh, I beg to differ, Lizzie."

Liz rolls her eyes. "Well, what was it then?"

Red sniffs a little haughtily. "I'll have you know it was a real treat, you would have loved it."

Liz stares at him, waiting. Red pauses for effect.

"Fertilized duck eggs."

"Ewww!" shrieks Liz, disgusted. "You were gonna make me eat that?!" 

"Absolutely! I take bets very seriously, especially when food is involved."

"Well, guess what, so do I! So tuck in, Red! Enjoy!" She can't help but cackle a little, the sheer relief of not having to eat fertilized duck eggs -- she nearly gags at the thought -- spurring her on.

Red sighs, opening the bag with about as much enthusiasm as Liz would have showed if it was filled with Hudson's droppings.

"Oh, quit stalling, Red. At least its real food!"

"Oh, I think we have very different ideas as to what constitutes food, Lizzie."

"Clearly. Now, dig in."

He sighs again, reluctantly reaching into the bag, looking as though he is expecting to be bitten by something inside. He pulls out the wrapped, circular item, and tosses it on the table, already wiping his hands on his slacks.

"I'm growing old here, Red."

"I'm getting there!" he snaps.

He proceeds to unwrap the item with the very tips of his fingers, looking vaguely nauseous as he does so.

"Quick, like a Band-Aid, Red! But no holding your nose, that's cheating."

He gives another long-suffering sigh, glaring at her.

"I'll just get it over with." He mutters to himself, apparently needing a pep talk. Liz has to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

He lifts the thing to his mouth, grimacing as he gets a good whiff of it, then squeezes his eyes shut and quickly takes a bite.

Liz holds her breath, watching closely, already on the verge of hysterical laughter at the pinched expression on Red's face as he chews quickly with his eyes still squeezed shut.

After a dramatically painful swallow that would have made anyone else assume he was choking down a mouthful of nails, he opens his eyes to grimace at her.

"Ugh!" he gasps and Liz bursts out in laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. She hears deeper chuckles behind her and turns to see Dembe grinning from ear to ear, carrying a glass of water for Red, who grabs it hurriedly and starts to guzzle.

"Well, how was it, Red?" Liz asks, catching her breath and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

Red puts the glass down, scowling at her. "Truly ghastly, Lizzie. I had no idea that food could be so awful."

Liz lets out another laugh. "Well, good. You needed a bit of a culture shock to see how the other half lives. And I was more than happy to provide that for you." She grins at Dembe, who is nodding approvingly, and she takes a little bow.

"I just didn't think you could be so cruel, Lizzie." 

"Oh relax, Red, its McDonald's, people eat it every day, it won't kill you." Liz turns to go, still giggling.

"So you say!" Red calls after her.

"Oh and Red?" She turns back in the doorway to see Dembe now seated on the couch next to Red, having already taken a mouthful of Red's discarded Whopper, and rifling through the greasy bag, presumably looking for French fries. "Next time, leave the glasses." She winks at him, striding out of the house, leaving behind a newly blushing Red and an uproariously laughing Dembe. She climbs in her car, unable to stop smiling.

Well. That should certainly teach Red not to make bets with her.


End file.
